“A food runner is a person who got a job they really don’t want to have,” he said. “And they try to make the best of it by taking pictures, so they’ll get something more than a paycheck.”

Granted, when Mr. Larson took a job as a food runner last year at a Los Angeles nightclub, a regular paycheck was no small consideration. After trying for five years to be a professional photographer and not getting far, it was time to show to his new bride that he was willing to let go of a dream that had not materialized. Of course, once he settled into the job, he found himself taking pictures here and there, especially during breaks and on slow weeknights.

At first he thought these fleeting photographs would work well with others he had taken of Los Angeles night life, where he took pictures at the Playboy Mansion and record release parties. But after a few weeks, he realized he was drawn more to taking pictures of the job itself and the scenes he witnessed in the blur of weekend nights.

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Credit Robert Larson

While Mr. Larson started out taking pictures in the nightclub area, where bands and burlesque shows entertained diners, he slowly made his way to the kitchen, which he found more to his liking.

“The kitchen staff is more down to earth,” he said. “It was great to be working with immigrants in the kitchen because they were interesting and fun and great people, as opposed to working on the floor with the wannabe actors. It was a better fit for me in the kitchen.”

His images – shot on black-and-white film – show a rough edge behind the glitz. While many patrons show up looking fine and acting refined, things can change after a few hours of drinks. In one photo, patrons rip into food.

“At the end of the night, they’re drunk and eating like savages,” Mr. Larson said. “That’s pretty much what that was, a feeding frenzy.”

Behind the scenes, he was showing the exhaustion on people’s faces as they raced to keep up with the never-ending orders. In one photo, a fellow food runner named Austen leans against a table where he is rolling silverware into napkins.

“He looks kind of worn out and disenchanted,” Mr. Larson said. “Standing there and rolling up silverware, that’s one aspect of the job that I found most relaxing. You can figure out what you want to do with your life. Everybody hated that but me.”

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Credit Robert Larson

He knew after a while he had to leave. The schedule was hard, especially for a newlywed couple, because he had to work on weekend nights. And he said he didn’t feel as if he would have much of a career at the nightclub.

In some ways, that feeling of not knowing was one he shared with other friends who, like him were Los Angeles natives. It had informed another series of his, “Want to Get Out of Here,” which comprised pictures of out-of-town strangers met at parties and friends who are out of ideas about how to get ahead.

“It’s hard for a lot of us to find our places,” Mr. Larson said of native Angelenos. “The competition is tough. By default, we’re at a disadvantage because we didn’t choose to grow up here. The people who come here made huge sacrifices, uprooted themselves and come here hungry. It’s hard to compete with that.”

Mr. Larson is now doing something he enjoys, buying and flipping houses. The money is good, he said, and he has more time to take pictures. He hopes to be able to get back to a documentary project on Haiti, where he had traveled until money and grants ran short.

“Right now, I’m doing personal work and saving up,” he said. “That way I don’t have to ask people anymore for money to take pictures.”